Sand Dollar
by Aestivate
Summary: Moments that lead up to this... [One shot MaxEmily]


**Sand Dollar

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by,  
Aestivate

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Author's note: I don't usually write some things like this. If it's a romance, I usually write MUCH longer than this, but this was for a challenge, so yeah. I don't particularly like the plot, but I like the fact that things like this come out lyrical, no matter how cliched the idea is. Whatever. ;;

I do not own the characters from the anime Bakuten Shoot Beyblade and I do not intend to sell, reproduce, or do anything illegal with this work of fanfiction.

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Max shuts his eyes, letting the ocean wind whip through his hair.

Nostalgia hits him like a hammer hit a nail, just as painfully, and when Max opens his eyes, suddenly he is in a different time, in a different place.

She'd died three years ago. The ring never leaves his finger, though she'd never made it to the wedding. Her ring is tucked away at home, where only he can see it. Anyway, he is the only one who needs it. The others have photos, reminders, other tokens of remembrance, but Max will always have the ring.

But as time moves backwards, there she is. Her hair is vibrant, in its bouncy ginger form. She'd laser surgery through the years, at Max's request. The only time he could actually see the true color of them was in the late hours, when they were holding each other throughout the night, after a long day at the lab. Amethyst, her eyes, even more beautiful than the actual stone.

Her laughter is crystal in his ears, something of long ago, and he is wrapped in a time where the beach smelled as salty as it did now.

"You see that, Max?" She points to a sand dollar, completely hidden by the sand. But she is sharp, corrective vision making her sharper. Lifting it into her hands, she gently blows off the sand, and looks at it in dismay when it shatters. "Oh, it broke..."

"Watch this," Max says, mirroring her and lifting yet another sand dollar from ground. He dusts it off, revealing the fragile shell that was once an animal. "See?" he asks playfully. "That's how it's done."

She tries to give him a hurt look, but fails. "You're always good at that stuff," she says. "Leave the gentle work to a woman, alright?"

Max laughs and smiles, his smile a trademark that makes the world's qualms shrink in dismay. Every single time he smiles, she is reminded of how much she adores that smile, and wants to be more like him in every way.

"Woman?" he goes on, tackling her to the sand and kissing her on the mouth. She giggles and tries to reach out of his grasp, but to no avail and he succeeds. "I don't see any woman except for you, nowadays. Other people always look like you, Emily."

"How sweet," she says in monotone. "Now can you get off of me?" But even then, she's smiling.

Max obediently does what she says and his breath catches in his chest when their skin touches one another. It is electrifying, their touch. Sparks seem to fly off both of them, and love too bashful to be said aloud is imminent.

But the love hovers over them, and thought neither of them have the guts to say anything, they know it unconsciously, while on the surface they are unsure. Unsure, uneasy, scared that something might go horribly, terribly wrong. But in the end, Max is sure everything will be alright.

"Max, come see the sunset," her voice is low and tender. She takes his hand and lifts him up, a gentleness in her touch accumulated by being with him for so long, and her strength comes from tennis in spare time, and the stress of work at the labs.

He wanders towards her; she's standing at the bottom of the cape, the golden dimming rays in flecks on her hair. He is compelled to her, and she leans close, her body cool-scented, just like the sea. She knows he's coming; she drops the sand dollar into his hand.

"Take it," she instructs, her voice not losing the low and tender quality to it. "All I'd do it break it." She closes his hand with hers and smiles at him, catching his eye and holding his gaze.

For while no one speaks; there is no need to speak, and therefore, no one does. Their faces lean close after a while, and she shuts her eyes, obliging his kiss. They've been together for a long time, and yet the feeling is as real as the first time their lips touched. It is long and slow, there is no need to hurry, as there is no need to rush. The pace is just right, there is softness, love, passion in it.

Max smiles and looks at her fondly as it's finished, and she touches his face. "I see the ocean."

He laughs, and takes her hand from off his face and clenches it. "Of course - we're at the beach."

She uses her other hand to lift his off her trapped one. "That's not what I mean," she begins, her voice barely audible against the waves crashing against the shoreline. She turns toward them, her gaze softening. "It's the same," she says. "You and the ocean."

He feels uneasy, his eyes darting around. This isn't how she normally acts, her dominant personality is somehow quieted by the sea. "What do you mean?"

She faces him, a body wrapped in golden. The color of her eyes is more breathtaking in the sunset, Max notices. They are amused, and the slowly fading rays dance with playfulness in them. Max recognizes this look; he knows she won't tell. Not ever.

But some things that have to be said should be said, sooner or later.

She knows this. She loves Max, and she knows, that somehow, deep inside, that he loves her too. She wants to tell him this, but the prospect makes her face go red. She faces the sea once more, afraid he'll notice. Her shoulders tense; she is afraid but willing at the same time. She wants him to know, but she doesn't want him to be hurt. She is also surprised that he hasn't said anything either, and though it is disappointing, she is grateful too. Some things were best left unsaid too, not everything has to be.

She sighs. Her eyes are downcast, when sad they looked grey and empty. Only things that are important should be said, and she knows this as well.

She knows many things. One might call her brilliant. It's doomed her with something else, another something she knows she must say.

"Max..."

He walks slowly towards her and puts her hands on her shoulders, and they're soft and warm, compared the wind that is picking up at the speed of the sun going down. "What is it?" He doesn't even need to speak loud, it's just above a whisper, but only just. They're so close together that it drowns out even the roar of the mighty sea.

She puts on her determined face, and is lucky that Max hadn't seen the change of facial expressions. She didn't want him to worry. Worrying was the last she wanted him to do, she would rather kill herself than see him worry or be troubled or be hurt.

All of which is going to happen in the near future. Any of the three makes Max not Max. She loves him for his smile, his disposition. She doesn't want it any other way, but good things don't last forever. Tears sting her eyes, she's lucky that they're facing the same direction or else he'd be worried as well.

But he notices her quaking shoulders; he's holding them after all. "What's wrong?"

They tense again, but she slowly releases the pressure and turns to face him, She points to a bruise on her arms, and she points to some bruises on her leg.

His face grows alarmed. "Who did this to you?"

She wipes her eyes. "I did them to myself."

He looks at her baffled. "Just what..."

She looks at him sadly, and she is unable to stop some tears from slithering down her cheek and dropping off her chin... Just like a life beginning in her eyes and screaming as it fell all the way down, until it met its too short end. "I have cancer, Max."

For a moment he is stunned. First he looks confused, then relieved, she's just telling a joke, after all. But his face is grim when he realizes his expression hasn't changed.

No one jumps out from behind a bush, no one's face lights up, no one jumps up and down for joy yelling, "Got you! You should have seen your face."

And, for the first time, to make matters worse, Max can feel the bones on her shoulders, can see the dark circles under her eyes, and he can see the dread. "No..." he whispers, the truth dawning on him at last. "No," he says again, only louder, so the whole world can hear it, deny it, prove to him that it's just a joke, just a joke.

He tightens his hands into fists, crushing the sand dollar. His breath comes in shallow gasps. "No, Emily, I won't believe it. I can't." His voice breaks, just like the fragile sand dollar did in his hand. He looks at it warily, why did the stupid thing break? She gave him that sand dollar, and now it's broken. He can't imagine her being just like it. Broken and battered and fragile and weak.

He can't accept it.

She puts her hand on his own. He looks at her with hurt on his face, and regret and guilt boil in her stomach. She shouldn't have told him, it wasn't right to force it one him, especially on a day where they were enjoying themselves so much. And besides, she'll be alright, right? Leukemia, nowadays is very treatable. Nothing to worry about.

But the thoughts make her doubtful, and she tries to squeeze his fingers as hard as he is squeezing hers. But she can't, and the lack of strength scares her. "I'm sorry," she says at last.

The sun is completely down, and the sky would be black, if the moon and the stars weren't lighting the way. "I'm sorry," she says again.

"No," he repeats, voice high and doubtful. His knees have been shaking so badly that they drop, right into the sand. "You're fine," he says. "You're fine, and there's nothing to worry about.

His denial scares her. She bends and throws her arm around his neck, but when he finally responds, she is alarmed to feel his shoulders shaking.

She cries openly now, onto Max's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she keeps repeating. "I love you."

Max freezes, but when the words register, he holds her closer, tighter, the I-will-never-let-you-go sort of embrace. "I love you, too," he whispers back.

"It's treatable," she sobs. "A lot of people live through leukemia. But I'm scared."

"Emily..."

"I love you, Max. I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I never meant for this to happen. I'm stupid and selfish." She breaks away, hanging her head in shame.

"No," he says, although this time it's in a new light. "You're not, stop. You're going to be fine, perfectly fine. You said so yourself. The odds are good. And it's okay to be scared. But I'll be there for you, I swear it."

She smiles weakly. "Because you love me?"

Max laughs. "More than you know."

She sighs with relief. Yes, she will be alright, although that is not true in the future.

Max opens his eyes and surveys the beach around him. It's the same as that evening, where Emily told of her heart and her doom. She couldn't have known it then, but she was to suffer from a from of the cancer that stopped responding to treatments. They worked, for perhaps a year, then stopped, as if a wall had been built by the cancer, keeping the helpful medication out. But Max, for some reason, couldn't hold a grudge against the doctors. The pain had been bad, towards the end. He muses that to himself often, especially when he's thinking about her at night, in the rare late hours where a pair can hold each other throughout the night, perhaps staring into each others' eyes, seeing the depth them...

He twists the ring on his finger, staring out into the ocean. She told him many times that he was like the ocean, or, better yet, the same as it.

The irony of that statement is that she is now a part of the sea, her ashes scattered in the ocean.

"So, Emily," Max whispers to the ocean wind. "If you're a part of the sea, and that I am it, that means we're one in the same."

He notices something peeking from behind the sand, obviously uncovered by the wind. Out of curiosity, he bends over to pick it up. His eyes widen. It's a sand dollar, as detailed and intricate as the one that shattered in his hand that night.

He drops it into his pocket - it doesn't break, and Max knows it will never break, as long as he carried the remnants of Emily in his heart.

"Emily!" He yells, dancing and laughing on the sand. A big grin is plastered on his face, and a weight that has been nestled deep within his chest for so long is lifted. "Wherever you are, FUTARI HITOTSU!"

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**Fin.**

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**_Futari hitotsu - _The two of us are one

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